One of the neat things about our house is the little room off of our master bedroom with glass French doors. It makes a great office and craft room, and would make a great nursery as well, if you wanted to keep a baby close for the first year or two. From the time we moved in, it housed an old desk that was my grandfather's. It had been used in a war office during WWII, and he bought it cheap after the war. It's a typewriter desk, with a platform that raises and lowers to hide the typewriter away inside when you're not using it. (My uncle has the typewriter from it.)
So between the desk, Matt's green banker's lamp, my plant and framed degrees, my office has a nice, homey feel. My new organizer helps me get papers, folders, and my ubiquitous legal pads off the floor (since the desk doesn't have a lot of spare surface space). I hung a legal pad over the calendar strap, stuck my file folders in the clear pocket, book catalogs in another pocket, and put some pictures on display. I wrote a favorite quote on the wipe-off board, a line from a Dixie Chicks' song: "If there's ever an answer, it's more love." I really feel like that's a good rule of thumb when you are stuck in any way. (What to do? Well, what's the more loving response?)
The printer just sits on an afghan-covered box, and Matt's old CD tower is getting more use than it has in years, just supporting the stack of review copies I put on top of it. And for a window treatment, I used a string of Tibetan prayer flags our brother and sister-in-law brought us from Mt. Everest.
Then there's my amazing craft area, which my in-laws created for me as a birthday present last year. I previously just had a rolling kitchen cart, but they got a cabinet to sit a yard or so from the cart and a tabletop to lay across them both, more than tripling my work space. My mother-in-law made the skirt that velcros around the table, hiding the storage cart and cabinet underneath. (The space between is the secret spot I stash gifts as I buy them throughout the year.) On Friday afternoons, when I finish work for the week, I close down the computer and move just two feet to my left to do some scrapbooking before the brood comes home!
The side of the room I'm not showing you has all my gift-wrapping supplies, several cheap bookcases full of books and random stuff. In every home we have, there is a room that never fully gets unpacked, where boxes sit for years. In this house, the office was it, though I cleaned most of that up and out when I went freelance and it became my main office, but the bookcases still have a lot of college memorabilia and other stuff we've had since our single days.
Where do you stash all your old junk? Where do you do your work, crafts, or other computering?
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